Intro: () The () Firebird: They () hours an' they played for their beers. They () neighbors: () They sang about highways, 'bout strippers an' killers; 'Bout fingers in satin, an' lamplight on lace. An' songs about love, an' songs about heartbreak, An' some people say they were ghosts in the place. So we'd () sing Jambal(F)aya: You () stars. Some () table, An' () It's no bed of roses when all a man knows is, Three chords an' a dust cloud an' a mind himself now. With these high-powered brokers with their lizard-skin loafers, And a dangerous habit they just can't put down. So he'd shout hallelujah an' sing Jambalaya: You shoot for the moon, you wind up 'mongst the stars. Some day we'll be able to get a good table, An' ride around town in them big shiny cars An' ()